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by Kristen Lehman

Weekends are For Sleeping in… Unless You have Kids

I should start by saying Saturday mornings when my oldest was little were amazing. I frequently remind people that he is, in fact, a freak of nature. He’d tiptoe in the bedroom about 7am and gently whisper:

“Mom, I’m awake, can I watch a show?”

I would hand him the remote that I had strategically placed on my bedside table with preprogrammed Disney channel. He’d settle in on the couch in the living room, push the little red button and sit tight. An hour later he’d return and ask for some breakfast at which point I’d get out of bed and begin to function like an adult.

My 3rd child is another story.

5am: I feel a knock (or 3) on my forehead…

Her: (in a fake whisper) “MOM – I’m awake!”

Me: ok.

Her: (still whispering) “can I snuggle”

Me: ok.

She disappears, I doze.

She reappears, and I feel a painful lump on my shoulder.

Me: “What is that?”

Her: “It’s baby Elmo (the one with the hard plastic head) he wanted to sleep with you.”

Then thump, thump (3 book go tumbling from her arms) drop (4 more stuffed animals sounds like they are hurled at the wall) “can I snuggle?”

Me: ok. (I move over)

Her: Laying on top of my head… scratching my arm and quiety singing “lullaby and good night…

Me: “would you like to watch a show?”

Her: “No I’m ok.”

Me: “ummm ok.”

Her: (3 minutes later, just as I am dozing back to sleep, with a girl on my head) “Mom, I need a drink of water”

Me: (wishing we had replaced the faucets in the house like we’ve been discussing for a year) ok… in just a minute”

Her: “BUT A MINUTE IS A LONG TIME”

Me: “ok…” (I begrudgingly get out of bed and get her a drink of water)

I return to find that she has snuggled into my nice warm bed and is snoring loudly. I stare at her in disbelieve and decide that I absolutely cannot squeeze in next to her or move her over and preserve both her sleep and a bit or warmth under the covers. So I begrudgingly head downstairs to the coffee pot.

At which point the giant dogs thinks it’s time to get moving for the day and starts pacing by the front door. I’m terrified that he might wake up the other kids, so I quickly send him outside with no leash, I mean it’s 5am, 14 degrees and still pitch black on a Saturday, who is actually out? I failed to account for the rabbits and squirrel in my sleep-hazed plan. The dog goes chasing a squirrel and I go chasing the dog – barefoot.

After what seemed like hours (but was most likely less than 3 minutes) I got the dog back in the house, found some dirty socks for my frost-bitten feet and once again headed for the coffeepot. As I was finally putting the water in the machine, I hear the pitter-pat of little feet and a small voice calling down the stairs.